Pierce Paris grips Christian Blake’s hips, his dark hair slicked back as he drives deep into his hole while Blake moans around his cock, fingers working his ass in tight, deliberate strokes. The blue patterned sheets catch the light as Pierce pulls back, his muscles straining, before slamming home again, his grip bruising, his thrusts relentless. Blake’s mouth seals around him, tongue swirling as Pierce’s fingers dig in, each pull of his ass matching the wet, hungry suction. The bed creaks under their weight, the only sound the wet slap of skin and the rough, breathless gasps between them.
